Boots whisper against the floor.
He walks slow, deliberate. Each step a question.
I keep my head down. Don’t move. Don’t speak.
Because if I do, the moment might break.
His weight lowers beside me.
A soft exhale. His shoulder brushes mine, warm even through fabric.
His hand finds mine.
Not forceful. Not trembling.
Just... there.
Solid. Anchoring.
Like he’s saying, I’m here. I found you. You’re still mine.
My fingers tighten around his. Just enough to feel the bones under the skin. His knuckles are rough. There’s a nick across histhumb, fresh. I wonder if it’s from Serat. From the seal. From tearing the world open to get back to me.
He says nothing.
Doesn’t need to.
I turn my face toward him, eyes finding his.
He’s bruised. Blood shadows one temple. His jaw’s swollen, probably from a punch he didn’t duck fast enough.
But his eyes?—
Steady.
Storm-dark and burning.
I study him like he’s a prayer I forgot the words to.
And then I speak.
Quiet. Raw.
“I didn’t know what a future looked like. Until you.”
His breath catches. Just a fraction.
Then he shifts.
His hand moves from mine to my face, fingers trailing across my cheekbone with a touch so gentle it unravels something deep in my chest. His palm cups my jaw, thumb brushing under my eye like he’s mapping every line, every shadow time carved into me.
Like I’m sacred.
He leans closer, forehead nearly touching mine.
The silence stretches. Not awkward. Not uncertain.
Just full.
